James Potter: Idiot
by 2DaughtersOfAthena
Summary: Sirius and James have an argument. But it is so much more than that. A story of love, friendship, and fury.


**Houses Competition. Head of House, Ravenclaw, Standard, James/Sirius, WC: 916 (does not include 0-0)**

 **AU, but only slightly to accommodate the negative pairing.**

 **0-0-0-0**

"Look," James started, a little awkwardly, turning to his best friend. Sirius glanced up from his place on the ground, picking at the grass. His face was red and blotchy, indicative of their slightly trying conversation. He hated talking about his parents, and James just had to make things complicated. James _had_ to bring up family. "My parents wouldn't mind you staying at ours. All the crap you get at home… Your parents…" He let the abuse remain unsaid – they didn't need to say it aloud to understand what he was referring to.

Sirius just nodded, wishing the conversation would be over faster.

"I'd love to have you over. Wormtail and Moony aren't far away either. We can meet up more easily during the holidays, without you worrying about your dad flipping out –"

"Alright, Prongs," Sirius interrupted, voice unsteady, plastering a half-smile to his face. "No need to say any more. You've sold it to me."

James grinned. "Excellent."

0-0

The night was roaring. The brothers – no longer just best friends – had drank the liquor cabinet dry, the only remnants were the bottles of firewhiskey they held in their hands. They laughed riotously, relishing in the fact that James' parents were out for the evening. James swigged at his bottle and hiccupped. Sirius picked at the label on his own, peeling it off slowly, meticulously. He couldn't quite explain the heaviness that was resting in his gut – rather, he could, but he certainly couldn't explain it out loud.

 _What would James say?_

Sirius had tried so hard to be happy. He was determined to be so – he was away from Grimmauld Place, the worst place in the multiverse, and he was with his best friend. And yet, for some reason he was miserable.

Despite Sirius' attempts, James had obviously noticed his anxiety. He had that look on his face that meant he was going to attempt to say something, and it would probably be something he thought was profound but actually made no sense whatsoever.

"Padfoot, what's going on with you?" he asked, trying to be gentle. "You've been strange all night, and we're supposed to be having this fun time – alcohol and all. Is it about your family-?"

"It's not about my fucking family, Prongs," Sirius snapped, suddenly angry.

He saw how James almost laughed.

"Merlin, what the hell is your problem?"

"Doesn't matter."

"No, you tell me now."

"I don't have to tell you anything, Prongs."

James looked at his best friend, really looked at him. Maybe he had looked before, but never fully noticed the little things that had changed about his appearance over the last couple of months. His hair had fallen flat, his eyes were tired, and his face was paler than alabaster. It was shocking just how much Sirius Black had changed recently. And it was not necessarily for the better. He looked ill.

"Are you sick?" he asked, hoping this wasn't the answer. Sirius shook his head, frustrated. He stood, as if the act of movement would make the problem go away. James did laugh that time. "Do you want to go for a run? You look agitated."

"If I wasn't who you thought I was, would you be mad?" Sirius asked quickly, glancing around as if watching for anyone who might have been listening at the doors and windows. James shook his head, more in bewilderment than in response to the question. Sirius nodded, taking in the information.

"There's no way you could hide that from me," he grinned.

"But I have," Sirius whined. "I have, I have, I have."

James swallowed thickly. "Tell me then. I won't be mad."

Firewhiskey downed, he shook himself mentally, and physically. The sight of Sirius Black jumping up and down on the spot nervously was enough to make anyone laugh, and yet James just stared in complete confusion. _This is really important to him_ , he thought. _What has got him so het up?_

"Okay. Ready?" James asked, once his friend had stopped leaping around.

And, quite horrifyingly, Sirius broke down in tears.

He seemed to crumble. His body folded in half, the bottle of firewhiskey tumbling to the floor and shattering on the carpet. A swift wave of his wand and James had cleared away the mess.

"Sirius?" His voice was a concerned whisper. Sirius hated it.

"I'm in love with Remus."

Sirius' admission shattered the wall between truth and mystery.

James laughed. It wasn't a nervous laugh, as Sirius might have expected. It was a laugh because he thought it was a joke. He thought Sirius was playing a trick on him, and that all of this was an elaborate part of some prank. It was a hysterical laugh. And it fucking killed him.

"Fuck this," Sirius muttered, and flew from the room. His tears were gone, only anger filled him now. He slammed the door and locked it with temporary magic on his way out. That ought to keep Potter out until the morning – he could get away in enough time so that he could be alone. He would run away from his friends and never look back. They would probably laugh at him when they were all back together again, with their perfect families.

He wrote a short note for James – bellowing through the bedroom door as he was – to find in the morning.

 _I'm leaving. Not sorry about locking you in._

 _Fuck you, James Potter._

 _Yours, Sirius Black_

 **0-0-0-0**

 **Thanks for reading!**


End file.
